No Umbrella

It’s raining, not a torrent but steady.  Holding an umbrella would be a natural choice.  But not the only one.

How about letting the hair get really wet, with drops falling into the eyes?  How about tilting the head upwards a bit rather than the protection of down? And no hood.

Why not?

I figure my skin is drip dry and the temperature is 13 degrees Celsius, so hypothermia is out of the question.  So let’s get wet.


Now consider the words we use.  Are we pretty ordered, with a nice sprinkling of nouns, verbs and adjectives, not to mention correct punctuation? Or are we willing to be loose in the vowels … with words bubbling up from the unknown and spilling into the world? Far more poetry than prose, far more airy than solid.

What will people think of me if I just flow in the speaking, if I don’t make a lot of sense, if I throw in four adjectives in a row … just for fun?

Who cares?

Speaking of which … I’m sitting here with my Ritchie Lemon and Ginger feeling so light, buoyant, porous, not here. (Ahh … that felt good)


Today I’m going to roam down a few Ghent streets that are new to me, without Google Maps. Ordinary, extraordinary – doesn’t matter. I’m going to walk into a café that the tourism office has never heard of and drink a beer that I’ve never heard of. Perhaps I’ll even say nonsensical things to the bartender.

Just ’cause

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